Welcome to Breaking the Board

There No Imposters Here: Tips from a Black Belt on Overcoming Imposter Syndrome

Bringing the lessons of the dojo to your career, your relationships, your life.

I've been practicing some form of martial arts for 22 years, I semi-retired recently (just before the pandemic!) from my position as an executive of an asset management company, Istarted my own business, and I’ve helped countless young women and men find their next career step.

I’m not bragging. Those are facts -- facts that I sometimes need to be reminded of. By “sometimes,” I mean almost every day.

Imposter Syndrome. The struggle is real. For women and men.

But You Can Beat It …

Last week, a higher ranked student attended a karate class I was teaching, and I thought, “oh good! I love it when he comes to class. I learn so much from him.”

That’s quite an improvement, considering Past Me would have thought, “Oh no! What could he possibly learn from me?” And I’d offer to let him teach the class.

But here’s the thing: He was coming to class to learn from me and practice with me. And next time, that will be my first thought.

So yes, I still sometimes find myself mired in the tell-tale, self-deprecating thought well of imposter syndrome, but I’ve learned how to fight my way out. And every time I do, it gets a little bit easier.

... One Punch at a Time

I know I wouldn’t have achieved all those other things in my life if not for my years of practicing martial arts -- because I wouldn’t have believed in myself enough to take the risks necessary to do all those other things.

For many people, when you come to your first karate class, your cup of personal power is empty. Even if you don’t realize it.

Then in some class -- maybe even your first class -- you will have one little success. It’ll be something you never imagined you could do. At that point, you’ll have added the first drop to your cup of personal power.

For me, it was breaking my first board. I’d been taking classes for a few months, but my teacher at the time had to push me to try because I didn’t think I could do it. I didn’t think I knew enough, that I was good enough or strong enough.

But I tried -- and the board broke. On the first try.

I still remember the feeling of, “holy sh*t, I just did that -- and it was easy.”

Once you add that first drop, you want more. You become willing to take a little more risk to get the next small success. Sometimes the successes take longer, require more practice and more failures, but they build on each other.

Before long, that sense of power and the willingness to stretch beyond your perceived limits starts to flow into other parts of your life. Maybe I should share this idea for a new product, or ask to work on that project, or apply for that job, or ask for a raise.

The most rewarding times of my karate journey have been when I’ve been able to help other people add that first drop to their cup of power. Because I know that one small success is almost certainly going to have an impact on their lives outside the dojo. And also because teaching people adds a little drop to my personal cup of power.

There are no imposters in the dojo -- only people learning from each other and helping each other to celebrate their successes and stretch themselves so they can reach the next one.